Jaimee Hills Poems

When they unearthed my body, I was precious,
not for my pretty sapphires, which I lacked,
but because life lay still in me. Precautions
...

S is for sin. I knew what we were in for.
How could we exist without an exit?
He called me his apostrophe, a she, his little rib.
...

The monoglot might slip on guano-
toh-moh. You tell dogs git, and gung-ho
handy types'll get her done.
...